Still Waters Run Deep - An Ode to Grandma T.
Listening for this reading is brought to you from the late, great Aretha Franklin and her song "Still Waters Run Deep".
Franklin was a contemporary (peer) of my Grandmother and this is a song my Grandmother would have loved.
So please, tune in while you read this little ode to Grandma T.
She loved life and she loved the environment even more. She saved every critical piece of paper or every sentimental item, but she junked the rest of the nonsense.
We were only ever allowed what we could actually eat — no more, no less.
We were expected to clean up our play areas including the outdoor ones.
We were expected to take care of the youngest first and work our way backwards toward the oldest -- always.
She wanted us to strive to be the best in everything and she set the same example for us by taking us to schools, parks, zoos, aquariums, and church constantly.
My grandmother’s mission was to leave the world better than when she entered it in October 1941 (the middle of World War 2) and I think she did that with the legacy she left in her grandchildren.
I was in the middle set of grandchildren so my siblings and I were quite spoiled in not having to share grandma with too many other similarly-aged grandchildren, but even still she made time for all of us.
All of her children (biological or otherwise) had to own our mistakes just as she owned hers towards the end of her life.
She was powerful and magnetizing. She was just this immense spirit.
My favorite "Grandma Story" to share is about the time I fractured my growth plate in my knee when I was 8.
It’s been 12 years and I still have this profound urge to scream for my Grandma whenever life gets hard.
I thought my Grandma T. would be immortal.
Spoiler alert: Grandma T. was not immortal.
I miss her every single blessed day.
As a single mother of 2 (and later four) children, Grandma T. put herself through school by lying about her age and credentials when she was 17.
Altogether, she raised 4 biological children, fostered many more, and educated the children of others through her work in schools and the New Jersey Education Association.
With her background in nursing and education, my grandma bootcamp-ed me like a doctor in residencies from my earliest age.
Every lesson mattered and there was no margin for error. Learning was a full-time job, according to my grandmother.
When Daddy died when I was 12, Grandma T. kept me accountable with my grades until she moved down South to enjoy her Golden Years.
My Grandma T. wanted me to be a Doctor. I was going to be a Doctor.
That was always the Dream after Daddy passed.
At New York University, during my senior year I took an elective class titled the “History of Death, Dying & Grief”. It centered around how the American Civil War changed death, dying, and grieving practices in the United States for the first time since the American Revolution nearly one hundred years prior.
Grandma T., who worked so hard to keep me in line after Daddy died, passed exactly one week before I received my (nearly) full-ride acceptance letter to New York University.
My most beloved Grandmother, the woman who had inspired this love of education and knowledge, died before I earned my way into a notoriously prestigious private university.
Can you understand why I have had a broken heart for the majority of my life?
All that to say, January is hard. New Year, Same Pain.
Grandma T. died mid-December right before Christmas in 2011.
It’s been 12 years, but it feels like it has barely been 12 minutes.
Whenever I’m too scared, too nervous, too overwhelmed — I look for Grandma T.
I find her everywhere, too.
She’s in the Gospel. She’s in Music. She’s in some of my Friends. She’s in most of my Family members.
My grandmother was the woman that instilled my great love of water.
She wanted us to strive to be the best in everything and she set the same example for us by taking us to schools, parks, zoos, aquariums, and church constantly.
My grandmother’s mission was to leave the world better than when she entered it in October 1941 (the middle of World War 2) and I think she did that with the legacy she left in her grandchildren.
I was in the middle set of grandchildren so my siblings and I were quite spoiled in not having to share grandma with too many other similarly-aged grandchildren, but even still she made time for all of us.
Plus, she fostered children beyond those that she biologically birthed and raised.
When I say my Grandma T. was a legendary woman, I cannot undersell that statement.
She was Dynamite (Dy-No-Mite!) as they say.
Let me be clear, Grandma T. was all about 'The Good Fight'.
When I say my Grandma T. was a legendary woman, I cannot undersell that statement.
She was Dynamite (Dy-No-Mite!) as they say.
Let me be clear, Grandma T. was all about 'The Good Fight'.
My Grandmother was not perfect, but she did not suffer fools and she expected accountability from every individual.
All of her children (biological or otherwise) had to own our mistakes just as she owned hers towards the end of her life.
She was powerful and magnetizing. She was just this immense spirit.
My favorite "Grandma Story" to share is about the time I fractured my growth plate in my knee when I was 8.
It was my first ever MRI and we learned I was claustrophobic before they could even get an image of my knee.
Nope.
I screamed bloody murder the second that machine started making noise until they went and got my Grandma T. who was out in the lobby and preparing to do her paperwork.
Grandma T., papers laid out and ready to balance her checkbooks, had to come running back for me while I fought every doctor and had to be medically sedated.
Didn't matter -- Grandma was there so I was safe.
It’s been 12 years and I still have this profound urge to scream for my Grandma whenever life gets hard.
I thought my Grandma T. would be immortal.
Spoiler alert: Grandma T. was not immortal.
I miss her every single blessed day.
As a single mother of 2 (and later four) children, Grandma T. put herself through school by lying about her age and credentials when she was 17.
She earned her Bachelor’s degree in Education and would later go on to earn a Master’s degree in the same field as well during the 80s. She even got a certificate about her knowledge on computers from IBM.
My Grandmother was there for the March on Washington in 1965 when my mother was just a toddler and my uncle was barely a year older. And yes, she brought them both with her to that significant march led by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Again, my Grandma T.’s life path did not go according to Plan, but she always held it down. She learned from each pivot and got wiser.
My Grandmother was there for the March on Washington in 1965 when my mother was just a toddler and my uncle was barely a year older. And yes, she brought them both with her to that significant march led by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Again, my Grandma T.’s life path did not go according to Plan, but she always held it down. She learned from each pivot and got wiser.
Altogether, she raised 4 biological children, fostered many more, and educated the children of others through her work in schools and the New Jersey Education Association.
With her background in nursing and education, my grandma bootcamp-ed me like a doctor in residencies from my earliest age.
Every lesson mattered and there was no margin for error. Learning was a full-time job, according to my grandmother.
When Daddy died when I was 12, Grandma T. kept me accountable with my grades until she moved down South to enjoy her Golden Years.
My Grandma T. wanted me to be a Doctor. I was going to be a Doctor.
That was always the Dream after Daddy passed.
My whole intention was to learn everything about biology, anatomy, chemistry, physics, physiology, geometry, numerology, and all the other sciences/pseudosciences so I could cure the illness that took Daddy before Daddy turned 50.
Grandma T. gave me that vision and then she nearly took it when she passed away during the first semester of my senior year of high school.
It was the blow of blows. And tragic beyond words since her passing is what some would consider a “bad” death.
Grandma T. gave me that vision and then she nearly took it when she passed away during the first semester of my senior year of high school.
It was the blow of blows. And tragic beyond words since her passing is what some would consider a “bad” death.
At New York University, during my senior year I took an elective class titled the “History of Death, Dying & Grief”. It centered around how the American Civil War changed death, dying, and grieving practices in the United States for the first time since the American Revolution nearly one hundred years prior.
Before that, our new nation hadn’t seen death at that scale. We haven’t seen death on our soil that scale since 9/11 and even that wasn’t a boots-on-the-ground war with foreign entities.
Anyways, back to the story before I digress into a contextual history lesson. We’ll save that for another day.
Anyways, back to the story before I digress into a contextual history lesson. We’ll save that for another day.
Grandma T., who worked so hard to keep me in line after Daddy died, passed exactly one week before I received my (nearly) full-ride acceptance letter to New York University.
My most beloved Grandmother, the woman who had inspired this love of education and knowledge, died before I earned my way into a notoriously prestigious private university.
Can you understand why I have had a broken heart for the majority of my life?
Life has not been kind, but that’s life… You win some, but you lose a whole lot more. At least, that’s the lesson I have learned in my 30 years.
I never let myself truly cry over my Grandmother’s death.
I never let myself truly cry over my Grandmother’s death.
There's just never been time to sit with that grief -- I had to graduate high school, college, and then start a journalism career.
There was no time to cry about my Grandma T. dying before she saw the Dream come true.
Her death was all shock and it still feels like shock.
I truly thought my Grandma T. would be here forever.
She was so much larger than life and then she was gone, because of a medical mishap. A potassium overdose. Who knew you could overdose on something as vital as potassium.
What are the odds that a woman so diligent about her health and so well versed in medicine would pass away like that?
It was deeply traumatizing and I’ve been saving my tears over her loss for the right time — that time has yet to come, but it’s brewing.
Her death was all shock and it still feels like shock.
I truly thought my Grandma T. would be here forever.
She was so much larger than life and then she was gone, because of a medical mishap. A potassium overdose. Who knew you could overdose on something as vital as potassium.
What are the odds that a woman so diligent about her health and so well versed in medicine would pass away like that?
It was deeply traumatizing and I’ve been saving my tears over her loss for the right time — that time has yet to come, but it’s brewing.
All that to say, January is hard. New Year, Same Pain.
Grandma T. died mid-December right before Christmas in 2011.
It’s been 12 years, but it feels like it has barely been 12 minutes.
Whenever I’m too scared, too nervous, too overwhelmed — I look for Grandma T.
I find her everywhere, too.
She’s in the Gospel. She’s in Music. She’s in some of my Friends. She’s in most of my Family members.
My grandmother was the woman that instilled my great love of water.
As long as I’m near a body of water (or even a puddle or a faucet), I can ground myself and know that I will be ok.
So, if life is handing you a hard one as 2024 is likely to do for all of us — look for water.
Find it in your sink, your shower, or head to a pond, lake, or a beach and just sit and think for as long as you need.
Dip your hands into the frigid liquid and let it wash over you.
Let it cleanse your hands and your mind.
Whenever you feel overwhelmed in 2024, remember Grandma T. and take a deep breath while you have a quick dip.
It’s what Grandma T. (and by extension me) would have wanted.
So, if life is handing you a hard one as 2024 is likely to do for all of us — look for water.
Find it in your sink, your shower, or head to a pond, lake, or a beach and just sit and think for as long as you need.
Dip your hands into the frigid liquid and let it wash over you.
Let it cleanse your hands and your mind.
Whenever you feel overwhelmed in 2024, remember Grandma T. and take a deep breath while you have a quick dip.
It’s what Grandma T. (and by extension me) would have wanted.
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